November wasn’t the super-fat successful writing month it was supposed to be. My NaNoWriMo efforts–like the rest of mindset–kind of took a crowbar to the back of the head. That said, I made some progress on the sequel to “Endgame.”
The novel opens with our heroine, June Vereeth, and buddy Prubius providing sharpshooter watch over a bizarre mission: Locate (and retrieve an item from) a downed freighter sitting atop rock towers some 3,000 feet off the ground. Catch 1: Intense, relentless fog. Catch 2: The rock’s chemical makeup emits enough electromagnetic radiation that nothing electrical–like weapons or radar–will work within twenty miles. Catch 3: June Vereeth and company know they aren’t alone. Catch 4: Their sworn enemies, the Mitasterites, are not their only problem up here.
I hurried to the top of the tower and took a knee. The strap for the knee-pad was biting into my calf again, but it made a 400-degree swivel easier. The sky was clear—for now.
Something caught my attention on the next pillar, but I made sure my eyes registered no threat before I returned to that something.
Fifty yards away, it was suspended from the side of the next tower. Hanging by a parachute, swaying in the breeze. On scope, I confirmed the bizarre sight: the top third of a Mitasterite. His frayed, dark-stained uniform ended mid-chest. His expressionless face was lolled to the side. A piece of material was flapping. The parachute backpack had pulled up—still hanging on—so his arms were unnaturally raised like a doll’s. At any moment, I hoped, he would fall away.
Drop, you bastard. Get out of my sight.
“Satok,” someone said, coming up on my left. Hulk. “Well that’s one way to go.”
“Yeah. Damned quick.”